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gerrystamour · 1 year ago

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suspended in the ether, till i felt you in my chest [chapter one]

Written for: Lex's Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge Prompt: "Can I braid your hair?"

Explicit | Steddie | In Progress

So, Eddie would say yes as blandly as possible and Steve would get a little smirk on his lips and do whatever it was that he asked to do, and then Eddie would feel flustered, off-kilter and set adrift. It always felt like a test or a challenge and Eddie had no idea if he passed. Knowing his track record with tests, Eddie was pretty sure he didn’t. And now Eddie was sweating his entire dick off and struggling to keep the sweaty, frizzy mop that was his hair off of his neck, and Steve was asking to play with it. Well, not play with it, but braid it. That was an important distinction to make, because playing with Eddie’s hair would imply some level of intimacy that was decidedly not platonic, right? This is my first fill for @thefreakandthehair Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge! I hope you all enjoy!

[ READ ON AO3 ]

chapter one: we are broken bodies bound for each other

“Can I braid your hair?”

Eddie blinked over at Steve, eyebrows high on his sweaty forehead while he held his hair up off the back of his neck. He could swear he felt heat pouring out of his head. Steve was strarfishing in the center of Eddie’s bed in just his boxers and a t-shirt while Eddie perched on top of the desk under his window, having a smoke and pretending he could feel a breeze coming in.

Summer had descended on Hawkins with a vengeance, as if in retaliation for the brief handful of weeks in the Spring when the portals to a frigid hell dimension opened up and attempted to take over their world. Granted, summers in Hawkins tended to be hotter than Satan’s taint, especially around the Fourth of July, but Eddie figured he was allowed to be noisy and bitchy about it if he wanted.

He'd almost died—first at the hands of a town full of angry, scared hicks, then by a swarm of demobats—and this was his first summer officially free of Hawkins High, the other frigid hell dimension in that shitty town. If Eddie had to spend the summer in the sweaty armpit of America because of dumb bullshit like “recovery” and “physical therapy” and “being under observation,” he was going to bitch and moan and throw all the tantrums he wanted.

It helped that all the stupid bullshit (like recovery, and physical therapy, and being under observation) meant that Eddie got to spend a lot of time with Steve outside of the apocalypse. They were both lucky enough to be Under Observation together, courtesy of both of them being the favoured chew toys for the demobats. From there, Steve just started staying close to Eddie, taking him to and from physical therapy, helping him with his exercises at home, coming over when Eddie was in too much pain to get up to use the bathroom, let alone get up and locate painkillers and take them.

It had been a while since Steve had to help him on a particularly bad pain day, at least one that extreme, but Steve still came over almost daily. Usually, they would just hang out and eat junk food, smoke a bit of pot sometimes; watch whatever movie Steve brought over from work. Sometimes, Steve would suggest they go for a drive and they would do just that, make like they would leave completely.

“We could get out of here, never look back.” Worded like a comment, spoken like an oath.

“You wanna run away with me, Stevie?” Tone teasing but lined with a hollow desperation.

The air in the Beemer would change as the question sat heavily in the space between them and Eddie was held in suspense, waiting for Steve to say or do anything. Most of the time, he wouldn’t hear an answer from Steve over the sound of the wind through the open windows and, like the coward he was, Eddie was too afraid to look at him after asking.

Sometimes, though, he would hear, “Of course I do, Eds.” Soft, teasing, possibly even sweet. Eddie’s delusional ass always liked to imagine it sounded as lovestruck as he felt.

Regardless of whether Steve answered or not, they would just drive, next stop anywhere big enough to disappear into with nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever cash they had on them. Sometimes, they would be talking, usually about stupid shit that turned into rowdy, playful arguments, but most of the time they were quiet. Just letting the music play while they played at running away from Hawkins, a tension building between them that Eddie could almost feel, like the lowest tone on a bass guitar.

The furthest they’d ever gotten outside of Hawkins before one of them chickened out was two hours. Well, the furthest they’d ever gotten before Eddie chickened out.

Eddie hated to admit that he was always the first one to back down, thinking about Wayne back at home wondering and worrying about Eddie again. He would think about how Wayne would take Eddie just skipping town, not even saying goodbye or giving him any warning, after everything they had gone through.

And really, what would they even do if they left suddenly and unceremoniously like that? Especially the two of them?

Sure, they were friends now, Eddie felt secure enough in what they had going on to say that much was true, but that was tentative at best. He was still Eddie “The Freak” Munson, and Steve was still Steve. It was only a matter of time before he found out just how much of a freak Eddie was and ended everything. Eddie was pretty sure Steve wouldn’t hurt him, but still…

They couldn’t run away with each other because then Eddie would have nothing to fall back on once Steve found out. Not just about what team Eddie was batting for or whatever the stupid sports metaphor was, but the specific person he was stuck on. Even if Steve was okay with him being gay… the whole reason Eddie even had to move to Hawkins just before he turned thirteen was because he was an idiot and told a friend about his crush on him. Of course, his dad found out after the boy and their other friends beat Eddie up, and that obviously ended with him being shipped to Indiana to live with his uncle. But the key detail was that the kid knew Eddie was gay and told him it was okay, that he was fine with that. Eddie never wanted to take that chance again.

They had just returned to his trailer from yet another game of Escape Chicken. It had taken a bit longer than usual for Steve to respond when Eddie had suggested turning around this time, long enough for Eddie to turn and look at him. There was something intense in Steve’s expression, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his eyes traced the flex of Steve’s arms as he wrung the steering wheel briefly. For an exhilarating moment, Eddie had thought Steve would ignore him and keep going.

Then Steve looked over at Eddie with his brightest, stupidest, goofiest grin that never failed to make Eddie’s stomach do somersaults, and then turned the car around. The drive back to Hawkins was always light, with Steve turning up his shitty music and singing along to the dumb love songs, batting his long, pretty eyelashes at him whenever Steve caught him watching.

But this time Eddie was having a hard time shaking off that moment just before Steve turned around. That moment where it really felt like Steve wasn’t going to stop, and if it hadn’t been for Eddie sitting there asking to go back home, Steve probably wouldn’t have. How long did Eddie have before Steve disappeared, with or without him?

“Eds?”

Steve’s voice brought Eddie out of his spinning thoughts and back to the matter at hand, which honestly wasn’t much better for Eddie’s constitution.

Because the matter at hand was Steve starting their other game of chicken, the one that Eddie wasn’t sure who was winning or losing , if either of them even were because maybe it wasn’t even a game like the one in the car.

It still kind of felt like Eddie was the first one to flinch every time, though.

This round was always started by Steve, with him offering some sort of physical attention, and Eddie wanted to say no— knew that he should say no— but he was always, always too weak.

How could he be expected to turn down the opportunity to have his fucking crush touch him, no matter how chaste? Sure, he felt like a fucking creep saying something innocent and nonchalant— “Sure, man. Knock yourself out.”— while knowing that his thoughts were anything but. Sure, it felt like taking advantage when Steve would get close enough that Eddie could smell what remained of his cologne through the musk of his sweat. But there was really only so much Eddie could withstand; he already turned down running away into the sunset with Steve, the least he could allow himself was whatever platonic scraps of physical affection the man would offer him.

Obviously, Eddie never initiated this little game, even before he realized how he felt about Steve. Being a queer alone made Eddie’s acceptance of Steve’s touches risky enough, and once he figured out how he felt about him? It was stupid that he kept letting it happen, but at least he never started it. Plausible deniability and all that.

Stupid and pathetic as it was, he would take what he could get for as long as possible.

Knowing his track record with tests, Eddie was pretty sure he didn’t.

And now Eddie was sweating his entire dick off and struggling to keep the sweaty, frizzy mop that was his hair off of his neck, and Steve was asking to play with it. Well, not play with it, but braid it. That was an important distinction to make, because playing with Eddie’s hair would imply some level of intimacy that was decidedly not platonic, right?

The real issue was that he just needed to tie his hair up, but Eddie couldn’t find any of the silk ties that Jeff’s mom had given him after helping him cut an elastic band out of his hair during his second senior year. His hair was even curlier with the sweat and humidity, which made it way too unruly to risk a ponytail or bun with a normal tie. Of course, braiding it solved all of that, didn’t it?

“Dude, what?” Eddie asked dumbly as he snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray by his knee, trying to stall a bit before he gave his inevitable consent to have Steve’s hands on him in a strictly platonic manner.

“Your hair— do you want help with it? I can braid it for you, get it off your neck,” Steve offered again, sitting up on Eddie’s bed and gesturing at him. He was sweaty too, his shirt soaked through and his face red from the heat. Somehow, Steve’s hair was still gorgeous, in spite of the sweat dripping from his hairline and the muggy, oppressive air around them.

“You know how to braid hair?” Eddie asked rather than give Steve a response to his offer, raising an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t like Eddie actually doubted Steve’s abilities; he hadn’t doubted Steve since he jumped into a haunted fucking lake without hesitation.

Steve rolled his eyes with a put-upon sigh. “I used to braid Carol’s hair all the time,” he answered, and that piqued some of Eddie’s interest since Steve didn’t mention his friendship with Carol or Tommy H very often these days. “I stayed in practice helping Max when she’d let me before everything. C’mon, you’ve been bitching and moaning since we got back, and it stopped being cute, like, an hour ago.”

“Aw, Stevie, you think I’m cute?” Eddie teased with an exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes, managing to keep from grimacing outwardly as his mouth got away from him.

Something passed over Steve’s face and Eddie couldn’t place the expression, and it didn’t help that it was gone as quickly as it appeared. If he had to name the look, Eddie would have called it sad, but that didn’t make sense. Eddie didn’t say anything that could have hurt Steve’s feelings, so he couldn’t be sad. But what else could that expression have been?

“Last time I’m offering, Eds. Do you want help or not?” Steve asked with another bitchy eye-roll that Eddie couldn’t help but snort at.

“Alright, Stevie, have at’er,” Eddie said as nonchalantly as possible, gesturing grandly at his frizzy mane. “I mean, good luck, I guess.”

“It’ll be easier if your hair’s wet,” Steve said simply, getting up off the bed and stretching with a groan.

His t-shirt, soaked with sweat and sticking to Steve’s skin, rode up with the motion and showed off a freckled and scarred strip of Steve’s midriff. Eddie wanted to lick the skin that was revealed, taste the salt of Steve’s sweat, make his own marks and leave it shiny with his spit. When Steve lowered his arms, the shirt stayed lifted where it was stuck to his skin.

Eddie quickly diverted his gaze as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. Should I get like a bowl? Or we might have a spray bottle kicking around,” Eddie said thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck. He jumped when Steve let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Or, I was thinking you could just hop into your shower real quick?” Steve suggested, crowding his space just enough that Eddie could practically taste the salt of his sweat. It was unreal just how much Eddie was obsessed with Steve’s fucking scent, just the smell of clean skin, sweat, and cologne. It never failed to fill Eddie’s head with thoughts of how he’d smell during other activities.

That thought alone had Eddie jolting back with a nervous laugh that came out too loud to pass off as casual. Oh well, he’d just roll with it. “Right! Of course, shower. You’re right,” Eddie said with another loud laugh, giving himself a self-deprecating eye-roll.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest with a little smirk. “Make sure you use that new shampoo I got you, and the conditioner—”

“Yep, got it, Stevie,” Eddie interrupted quickly, his heart skipping a beat at remembering the gifted haircare products that Steve had seemed almost nervous about giving to him. It had been a lot, and Eddie knew it had cost a lot, but Steve insisted he have all of it.

“I mean that leave-in stuff, the mask—” Steve started again, following him out of the room, and Eddie paused in the hallway to raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wanna join me? Just to make sure I wash my hair properly?” Eddie asked blandly, and he was legitimately impressed that he was able to deliver that line so smoothly. The thought of Steve joining him in an enclosed space while naked was something Eddie usually only indulged in when he was alone and in his bed.

The comment had Steve stopping in his tracks, his mouth clicking shut as he glanced away from Eddie. It was… not unexpected, necessarily, but it also wasn’t the scoff and eye-roll Eddie’s smartass comments usually garnered. Fear gripped Eddie as he realized he might have fucked up, that he said too much and all the rumors from high school clicked into place.

“Welp! I’ll be right back,” Eddie said, too quick and too loud, before spinning on a heel and disappearing into the small bathroom of the trailer. Hopefully, he could figure out a good excuse for inviting his friend into the shower with him with minimal freaking out.

Steve wasn’t sure just how long he stood outside the bathroom door just listening to the water running while his brain came back online after Eddie’s comment.

The thought of joining Eddie in the tiny stall had Steve’s head full of heat and static, and a very large part of himself was tempted to say, “screw it” and do just that. It was easy to imagine it, crowding Eddie against the wall and slotting their hips together, getting each other off in a frantic, hungry frenzy. Without really meaning to, Steve’s thoughts wandered further, his daydream shifting to imagine Eddie on his knees, his smart mouth occupied while Steve buried his hands in those curls he was obsessed with. Then his mind supplied him a very vivid fantasy of his cock sinking into a different tight heat—

Sucking in a sharp inhale, Steve shook his head and quickly went back to Eddie’s room. He couldn’t just stand there in the middle of the Munson trailer getting a hard-on while listening to Eddie shower. There had to be something to do with manners or whatever. And as much as he wanted to go into that bathroom—he was invited, right?—he wouldn’t because he was working really hard on giving Eddie the space he needed, waiting for Eddie to finally act on what they both felt.

Because they both felt it, right? Steve definitely thought so most of the time, with all of Eddie’s shy smiles and delighted giggles whenever Steve made a joke, or the way he would lean into Steve’s hands when he’d accept a massage, or the way those big brown eyes would watch Steve’s mouth sometimes rather than meet his gaze while he talked. But then, when Eddie would deliver his flirtatious little lines, they would come out flat, sarcastic almost. Some sort of tone that was so deliberately uncaring, it threw Steve off completely.

What did it mean when someone so animated and vibrant turned so flat? Was that just how Eddie flirted? Part of him was convinced that was the case, and Steve just had to get used to Eddie’s style, because he knew how Eddie felt, had known at least somewhat for months now.

Steve found out back when Eddie had just barely woken up from his coma and was so high on pain medications, it was doubtful he really registered that he had company, let alone what he was saying to them. It made for some really funny moments that had Steve wishing he had some way to record them.

Then one day, Steve had been helping Wayne while he practiced redressing Eddie’s healing injuries. Mostly, Steve’s job was to keep Eddie sitting up and make sure his hands stayed put and didn’t get in his uncle’s way. When the bandages were pulled away from the stitched-together skin of his midriff, Eddie looked down with an exaggerated grimace.

“What the fuck, I lost three tattoos and a nipple?” Eddie whined, like he always did when the bandages came off. Steve usually just snorted and listened to his complaints, but there was something extra to Eddie’s tone that he didn’t like.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re gonna have sick scars, dude,” Steve said with a winning smile when Eddie lifted his pout to look at him. Winking, Steve added, “Chicks dig scars, the whole bad boy look. Seriously, trust me.”

“If you say so,” Eddie sighed, still pouting dejectedly, and Steve frowned. Then Eddie said, “Don’t really care what girls like, though.”

At the time, Steve didn’t really register the way Wayne had fumbled the roll of medical tape, too caught up in getting Eddie to smile again. “Of course, you don’t,” Steve teased, winking at Eddie.

Eddie giggled. “Stop that, why are you winking? You look dumb,” he laughed, and Steve felt like he'd won something. Still smiling, his dimples out in full force, Eddie leaned closer to his face and asked, “What about dudes, though?”

The hospital room went very quiet as Wayne sucked in a sharp breath. Steve just blinked at Eddie, their eyes locked while he processed the question slowly. “What?” he asked dumbly after a few moments.

“I think that’s enough of this conversation—” Wayne started to say.

“I said!” Eddie interjected loudly, glaring almost childishly at his uncle before his attention returned to Steve. “What about dudes? Men? Boys? What do they think of scars?”

It was a bit embarrassing how long it still took for the dots to connect for Steve, but once they did, he blushed and glanced at Wayne nervously. The man was watching Steve with that hawkish stare of his and Steve had to look away. He could still feel Wayne’s stare burning holes into the side of his head and God he just hoped this wasn’t the first Wayne was hearing about this, too.

“Y-yeah, dudes dig scars, too,” he finally stammered out, meeting Eddie’s gaze once again. Eddie was squinting at him almost suspiciously, so Steve added a quiet, “A lot.”

Eddie’s expression split back into his goofy grin and Steve’s stomach did a little somersault. “What about you, big boy?” he pushed, his tone strange as if he had attempted to purr or something. If the moment wasn’t so whatever this was, Steve would’ve laughed.

“What about me?” Steve asked stupidly. He knew exactly what Eddie was asking.

With the biggest eye roll, Eddie asked, “Do you like scars, Stevie?”

That was the question of the century, at least it was for Steve, because the moment it left Eddie’s mouth, three things immediately clicked into place in Steve’s head.

The first being that yes, Steve was absolutely into scars. He didn’t have much experience really seeing scars on anyone else other than himself, but he still knew. The second was that he knew he was going to like Eddie’s scars, a part of him liking that some of their scars would match even. And third, there was a part of him that was hungry, possessive even, at the thought of Eddie with scars— especially Eddie with scars that matched his.

“Y-yeah, Eds, I like scars,” he managed to say, but he was nearly bowled over at the intensity of Eddie’s grin when it widened even further.

“Do you think they’re sexy?” Eddie asked, and Wayne sucked his teeth.

“Boys—”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve answered, taking a page from Eddie’s book and trying to ignore Wayne. It was a little hard to do when the man was packing up the gauze and medical tape quickly.

Eddie’s grin shifted into a smirk as he leaned so close to Steve’s face. “How sexy—?”

A surprisingly big and strong hand fell heavily on Steve’s shoulder, startling him.

“Alright, boys, that’s quite enough,” Wayne said sternly, and Eddie just laid back on the bed and giggled loudly up at the ceiling. Steve’s stomach had felt squeamish, especially when Wayne’s eyes met his with something fierce and angry in them. “Harrington, a word outside. Now.”

Steve did not waste time standing up and following Wayne out to the hall. The man kept walking, so Steve silently followed until Wayne led them to the stairs. Once the door behind them shut, Wayne spun and pinned Steve with a hard stare.

“Sir—”

“No, you’re going to listen to me, Harrington,” Wayne interrupted, and Steve’s mouth snapped shut with a loud click. Once he was satisfied that Steve would keep his mouth shut, Wayne nodded once and in a low, dangerous voice he said, “Now, you’re not going to repeat a damn word that you just heard in there. If I catch even a whisper of what he said—”

“I won’t,” Steve interjected, grimacing when Wayne’s expression darkened. “Please, just—he’s not the first friend I’ve had that’s—I would never do that, okay?”

Wayne’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “He’s too high for his own good right now, he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying,” he said, his tone almost challenging and Steve glanced away. The thought of Eddie saying all of that, implying all that he had but not meaning any of it? It hurt a lot more than it probably should have, given that Steve only realized his feelings for Eddie specifically less than ten minutes ago.

When Steve managed to meet Wayne’s eyes again, his expression was far less suspicious, more thoughtful than anything. “Don’t bring any of this up unless Eddie does, got it?” he eventually said, and Steve began to protest.

Selfishly, he wanted to clear up whether Eddie meant it as soon as possible, to hear Eddie repeat all of it and fill in the gaps. He wanted to hear Eddie say he thought scars were hot too, that Steve’s scars were hot.

“Sir—”

“Listen, Steve, I know my boy and I know he doesn’t do well when he feels cornered. Even if you go in gentle, he’s gonna lash out and probably say something that cuts down to the quick,” Wayne pushed sternly, and Steve shut his mouth with a small nod. “You can take my advice or not, up to you, but I promise you it will not end well if you push.”

Steve was tempted to go against Wayne’s advice, to just clear everything up the moment Eddie was properly lucid again. But then he thought about possibly losing Eddie when he had a chance at something, that he could blow that chance because he was impatient and pushy. There was no way that Steve would take that risk, so he begrudgingly did as Wayne told him; he didn’t bring it back up, and he didn’t push Eddie to bring it up himself.

Still, Steve decided to show Eddie that his feelings were reciprocated; he flirted and teased, offered physical affection and helped him out as often as he could, cooked for him and Wayne and kept him company. He spent weeks just trying to show Eddie that he wanted him, too. That Eddie could finally close the distance between them, and he wouldn’t be turned away.

Then one day when Eddie and Steve had been grabbing something to eat after their monthly check-up with the government doctors, some hick had spat something vile and cruel as they passed their table. Eddie made a crude gesture back at them, looking all the world like he didn’t give a shit what they thought, but the moment the asshole was gone he deflated.

“I fucking hate it here. Can’t wait to get the fuck out,” Eddie grumbled, and Steve’s chest squeezed. He hadn’t considered that Eddie would want to leave, which he immediately realized was stupid. Eddie hadn’t been treated well by the town his whole life, and things had only gotten worse since spring break. Of course, Eddie wanted out.

“You’re leaving us, Munson?” Steve asked as he tossed a couple of fries into his mouth.

Eddie sighed, shrugged. “No plans yet. Probably wouldn’t anyway,” he said with a heavy, put-upon sigh.

“Why not? What could possibly be keeping you here?” Steve asked with a grand gesture at the diner around them, though he was obviously meaning the whole town.

Eddie glanced at him, cheeks turning pink, before he looked away and cleared his throat. “People,” he eventually said with another shrug, and Steve was positive he saw Eddie’s eyes glance over at him again as he said it.

“Oh,” Steve thought, his heart hurting at the thought of being part of the reason Eddie was staying in a town that despised him. At the same time, he felt like flying, the knowledge that he was enough of a good reason to stick around. Or, he was at least one of the good reasons.

“You shouldn’t make your decisions based on other people,” Steve said after a minute. “I’m sure they’d understand if you left.”

“They would. Definitely would,” Eddie agreed with a hollow little laugh. “I wouldn’t make it a day out there alone, though.”

Without even thinking about it, Steve asked, “Then why don’t you ask if they’d go with you?”

Eddie laughed out loud at that, but it was a hollow and almost bitter sound, his big brown eyes rolling. “Yeah, right. Believe me, Stevie,” he said in a low tone, meeting Steve’s eyes so pointedly, it felt like a challenge. “No one’s gonna wanna run away with me, not really.”

So, Steve started putting out hints that he wasn’t planning on staying in Hawkins forever, that he was looking for one good reason to leave, that he would run if Eddie just said so. He started mentioning trying to go to college again, looking at schools elsewhere, as far away from Hawkins, Indiana as possible while staying in the country; throwing in comments about getting an apartment big enough for himself and at least one roommate. Steve always talked about his plans to or around Eddie, and sometimes he would respond and play along before slipping into that deliberately deadpan flirtation.

It was confusing and felt like he was getting nowhere most of the time. Sometimes, though, Eddie would seem so close to taking down the walls around him, to bringing up his feelings, the conversation from the hospital, anything that would finally end Steve’s waiting. At the same time, Steve would wait forever if the alternative was potentially driving Eddie away.

Steve was happy enough with just Eddie’s friendship, even if that was the only type of relationship he would have.

“That’s a mighty serious face you’ve got on, Harrington.”

Jumping, Steve looked over at Eddie as he returned to the bedroom and immediately had to look away.

Eddie was wearing only a pair of boxers, squeezing his hair out with his towel as he wandered closer to where Steve was sitting on the bed. Glancing back at Eddie, Steve looked at the scars that covered his torso, how many of them matched his own, but then there were the scars over his chest and up the thick column of Eddie’s throat. There was nothing Steve wanted more in that moment than to put his mouth and tongue on every single twisted patch of skin.

As Eddie approached and tossed his towel onto the bed, Steve realized he had slipped the handle of a comb into the waistband of his boxers, the line of it following his happy trail. It captivated Steve’s attention for just a few moments too long because suddenly Eddie was standing directly in front of him and clearing his throat.

Looking up at Eddie’s face quickly, Steve smiled weakly at his raised eyebrow. His expression was strange, like he was unimpressed, but it was pinched, almost forced. Eddie’s eyes were wide and bright, and maybe it was just Steve’s own feelings, but there was an almost hopeful look behind them.

“You okay, Steve?” he asked, and Steve nodded quickly, grabbing the comb out of Eddie’s waistband. His fingertips brushed the smooth skin of Eddie’s lower abdomen and Steve was very interested in the way Eddie took a shuddering breath at the contact.

“Yeah, I’m perfect. Just admiring the view,” Steve said with a little smirk. Eddie’s blush was brilliant and the way the corner of his mouth twitched up had Steve’s heart soaring.

Then the hint of a smile turned… cold? It wasn’t mean, but it wasn’t the cute, bashful smile Steve had hoped he’d get.

“Of course, you are, big boy,” Eddie shot back flatly before rolling his eyes and crawling onto the bed, and something sour settled in Steve’s gut. “How do you want me for this, Steve?”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Steve leaned back against the wall at the head of Eddie’s bed and patted the space between his legs. “Right here, I guess. Or if you want, you can sit on the floor, and I can braid your hair like that?”

At that, Eddie actually scoffed and threw him a raised eyebrow. “You want me on my knees with your hands in my hair, Harrington?” he asked coolly, his knowing smirk very close to something Steve recognized, but on someone else’s face. Then Eddie did that eyeroll of his and something clicked in Steve’s mind, and he barely registered when Eddie said, “I’ll sit in front of you like this.”

Steve just nodded and muttered quiet instructions for Eddie to move his head here and there as he braided Eddie’s hair—he was doing something Max called a Dutch braid because he thought it would be more Eddie’s style than a French braid—but his mind was stuck on the sarcasm, the eyeroll, the flat flirtation.

It reminded him of Carol but not quite. He could just remember all the times she would have some poor sap following her around, trying to get in her good graces, and the way she would flirt before rolling her eyes to Tommy and him. She would laugh at the boys as they walked away, and most of the time Steve could tell that they never realized she was making fun of them.

Once Steve made that association, it forcibly knocked everything that happened between him and Eddie into a new perspective. God, of course just because Eddie was into men didn’t mean he would be into Steve, and here he had been so fucking obvious and pushy with his crush. He was pushy, overbearing, and apparently couldn’t take the very obvious hints that Eddie had been throwing him all along.

And in hindsight, it was very obvious, Steve just never saw it because he thought Eddie wasn’t like that. Steve thought he actually found someone who wanted him as much as he wanted them, found someone who was direct and vocal about what they did and did not want. In the end, Steve never considered that Eddie might be just as petty as other people he knew, that he would be like everyone else who made fun of him for not keeping up. For having to be told everything out loud and in detail. For not taking hints, reading body language, and being too damn much.

Hurt settled deep in Steve’s core, but it was tangled up in an anger so fierce he had to work hard not to accidentally pull Eddie’s hair. The kids had a grace period for being shitty to him, but adults like Eddie? Absolutely not. He'd put up with too much for too long to take it without calling it out, especially if that’s what was happening.

Steve would rather admit his feelings and ruin their entire friendship forever rather than continue something where he was just the butt of another joke he wasn’t in on.

As he reached the end of the braid, Steve realized he didn’t actually have anything to tie it off, but he could see a hair tie on the bedside table. Leaning over, Steve accidentally yanked on Eddie’s braid, and he hissed.

“Damn, Steve, you haven’t even asked for my safeword yet,” Eddie flirted before chuckling as Steve tied off the braid, and something hot and angry flared in his gut and he opened his mouth to tell Eddie to fuck off.

“Are you making fun of me?” Steve asked instead, and he cringed at how embarrassingly small and sad his voice sounded.

The anger that was simmering in his gut was immediately doused by the hurt. It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over Steve’s head and all he had left was the grasping, gnawing want for someone he apparently would never get to have. Suddenly he was standing in a bathroom at a loud Halloween party all over again while the person he loved called him bullshit and said they didn’t love him and never did, and he just wanted to scream about it. Part of Steve wanted to hit something, but he worked very hard to not be that person anymore, so he just balled his fists up in his lap.

“W-what?”

Steve didn’t even realize he was blinking up at the ceiling until he was returning his gaze to Eddie’s face, and the naked confusion Steve saw there was almost comforting.

“Are you making fun of me?” Steve repeated, this time a bit more firmly. “If you’re not—if you’re not interested in me, just say so.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Steve—what?” he asked haltingly, and Steve just ran his hands back through his hair.

“C’mon, Eds, I’m—fuck, Eddie, I’ve been trying so hard to follow Wayne’s advice and give you space, and do what I can to show you I’m—I want you so much and I thought you wanted me, too, but you’re just—” Steve stopped himself as his eyes stung with tears and he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “If you aren’t actually interested like I thought, just tell me. I don’t think I can take you laughing at me behind my back, too.”

“Stevie—” Eddie started, but the nickname hit Steve deep and he let out a shaky sob.

“Shit,” he said, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, fighting back the tears. Steve didn’t want to cry at all, but especially not in front of Eddie while he wasn’t certain that he wasn’t being laughed at.

Cool hands were on Steve’s cheeks and a weight settled across his lap. “Stevie, please, can you look at me?” And of course, Steve couldn’t deny him anything, even now.

Dropping his hands and tipping his head back against the wall, Steve looked up at Eddie and willed his tears away. Eddie was a lot closer than Steve expected, even knowing the man was in his lap and holding his face gently.

“I think I’ve been missing something because I didn’t—shit, Stevie, I didn’t know,” Eddie insisted earnestly, his rich brown eyes huge as he searched Steve’s face. “I’ve been fucking… I don’t know, pining for you for months, Stevie. Maybe even years, I don’t know, just—”

“I know,” Steve said miserably, his confusion mingling with his hurt in a nauseating mixture in his stomach, turning his eyes skyward as a tear fell. Eddie immediately caught it with his thumb and wiped it away.

“You know?” Eddie asked, his voice tight and Steve nodded, pinching his nose a bit and sucking in a sharp breath.

“Y-yeah, in the hospital, we talked about scars being hot, and you asked me if I would think your scars are hot—Wayne stopped the conversation,” Steve explained around a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to scare you off, so I just—I was hoping you would see that I feel the same way and finally say something.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry, I don’t—I literally don’t remember a lot of the hospital,” Eddie admitted, and Steve laughed.

“Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out,” he said with a sigh, chewing on his lip as he returned his gaze to Eddie’s face. “If you feel the same, why’ve you been pushing me away?”

“Because I’m a coward, Steve. I was running away,” Eddie replied with an explosive sigh, stroking Steve’s cheeks with both thumbs.

“Don’t say you’re a coward, because you’re not,” Steve argued fiercely, hating the way Eddie talked about himself. His interjection just seemed to make Eddie sadder.

“Listen, Steve, I don’t know how much you’ve experienced as a dude into other dudes in a small town like this, but I just—I don’t act on vague gestures, Steve,” he said, and Steve frowned as confusion swirled. “I can’t act on that shit if I want to keep my head from being caved in by angry hicks, okay?”

And that… well, that stung, and Steve felt a moment of frustration at himself for feeling that way. It made sense that Eddie would be afraid; Steve knew exactly what sort of attitudes Eddie would be up against in a town like Hawkins if they knew, or what would happen if Eddie flirted with the wrong guy based on a misunderstanding. Steve got it.

But Steve wasn’t just some guy, he was Eddie’s friend. They almost died multiple times together, Steve helped nurse him back to health. He thought they were close, that Eddie knew he was at least safe to be himself around, even if he didn’t want to be with him.

“Steve?” Eddie pressed, sounding nervous.

Taking a deep breath, Steve nodded a bit. “Th-that makes sense,” he agreed after a few moments, giving a bit of a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just—I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “For what?” he asked, his huge eyes wide as Steve met his gaze again.

“For whatever I did that made you feel like I would maybe hurt you,” Steve said with a one-shouldered shrug. “I know I was shitty about this in high school, but I thought I’d turned—”

“Steve, fuck, no! That’s not—shit, okay, start over,” Eddie groaned loudly, tipping his head back to whine a bit. “Jesus H Christ, I hate talking about my feelings. This is so fucking hard.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve teased with a chuckle.

“Can you actually close your eyes and not look at me for this, Stevie? I just—I need to say a bunch of shit and I don’t think I can do that with you looking at me,” he confessed after a few moments of silent thinking.

Without hesitation, Steve closed his eyes and relaxed against the wall. “Eyes are closed, not looking at you,” he said quietly and waited.

“I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t hurt me if you found out I was gay, Steve. But there’s—there would be no way to know for sure unless you found out and that not knowing was fucking terrifying,” Eddie said in a rush, and Steve could feel the way he began to shake. “And then there’s—there are guys who say they’re okay with it, but the moment they find out you have feelings for them that’s—the thought that you might be fine with me being gay, but not about my ridiculous crush… I couldn’t risk it.”

Steve could hear the heavy weight of history there, that Eddie wasn’t just talking about a hypothetical scenario he created in his head but a real memory, something formative and traumatic. His heart ached with how badly he wanted to soothe that pain so Eddie never felt like he couldn’t love someone loudly ever again. Of course, he wanted to ask about it, if only because he wanted to know everything about Eddie, and Steve could guess that he would tell him, regardless of how uncomfortable it would make him. That was also a conversation that could happen another time.

Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips, rubbing his thumbs up and down the spurs of his hips. A soft smile came over his face when Eddie jumped at his touch, and Steve sighed with relief when Eddie leaned into it.

“That makes a lot of sense actually,” Steve said, squeezing Eddie’s hips. Then, tentatively, he asked, “Can I hold you?”

Eddie let out a sound that was mostly a sob, but Steve could hear the word ‘yes’ tangled up in it so he quickly wrapped his arms around Eddie and held him tight against his chest. It was still oppressively hot, and they were both sweating, and honestly the way any bare skin that was showing stuck together was unpleasant, but that was alright. It was perfect, because Eddie was in his arms and Steve knew he returned his feelings.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?” Eddie asked as he rested their foreheads together.

“Go ahead,” Steve said instantly, his eyes still closed.

“Why did you think I was making fun of you?” Eddie asked nervously.

Grimacing, Steve shrugged. “I didn’t think you were until today, honestly. It was just—you started rolling your eyes today,” he responded, his mouth twisting. “It reminded me of something someone else would do when she was making fun of guys who had a crush on her.”

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie said softly and the hands still holding Steve’s cheeks didn’t let him shake his head. “No, don’t, it’s—shit, Steve, I should’ve just not flirted with you. Really tried to have my cake and eat it too with all that.”

Steve let out a bark of laughter, squeezing his arms around Eddie even tighter. Eddie practically melted against him, and Steve desperately wanted to look at him again.

“Eds, can I open my eyes now?” Steve asked and, at Eddie’s little nod, he blinked his eyes open. With Eddie’s forehead against his, their faces were way too close, and Steve felt himself go cross-eyed trying to meet Eddie’s gaze. Laughing, Eddie moved to pull back, but Steve lifted a hand to hold the back of his head, keeping him close as he glanced down at Eddie’s lips.

“Steve?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice soft and tentative, almost unsure.

Sighing, Steve leaned closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips as he asked, “Can I kiss you, Eds?”

There was a moment where Eddie tensed, and Steve was getting ready to apologize when those perfect hands slid further back to tangle in his hair. “Want you to know I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he admitted quietly, and something warm and fond bubbled up in Steve’s chest. “Just because I might suck.”

Steve just smiled and shook his head. “You’ll be perfect, I know you will,” he hummed before guiding Eddie’s lips to his own.

[ TBC ]

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